Tell Me Your Stories
by SarahSerendipidy-OliviaMaestro
Summary: Ragnar is a curious man- he seeks the stories that Athelstan knows about and he asks about his priest's Christian God. Quite fluffy. Sometime after the 3rd- 4th episode.


The air was hot and comfortable but Athelstan could hear the wind howling outside. The fire crackled and his face was heating up in the most peculiar way.

It had become customary for him and Ragnar to stay up at these late hours and talk. And drink. Maybe drink and then talk, but Athelstan could not say for sure.

He gripped tighter around the cup stared with an empty look at the fire. His mind was muddled, but happy. He felt fuzzy and nice all over his body. Ragnar was playing with the monk's hair absent mindedly.

"It's growing out nice."

Athelstan snorted and snapped back from his haze. He gave the Viking a drowsy look.

"It's not supposed to grow out," he deadpanned.

Ragnar smiled and tugged it challengingly. His cheeks were flushed slightly red and his face was dotted with small beads of sweat.

"I like your beard too..." he mumbled and traced his hands across Athelstan's face, cupping his chin.

Athelstan swallowed heavily, Adam's apple bobbing. He stared into Ragnar's fierce blue eyes and felt something flutter in his stomach. He blamed it on the mead.

"Tell me more about your God," the Viking breathed, still gently holding onto the priest's face.

"I-," murmured Athelstan. He swallowed again, lips smacking. He could feel Ragnar's other hand on his thigh, gripping his monk's gown gently, as if to hold him close, to make him stay. His eyes were open and bright, like a child's, searching in Athelstan's. The monk sighed softly.

"There is God. And God's son, Jesus Christ-"

"I thought you said you only had one God?" interrupted Ragnar, who was frowning slightly and gripped tighter on the priest's face and shook it a bit.

Athelstan huffed, grabbed Ragnar's hand and pried it off his face.

"They are the same. God was represented on earth through his son, Christ," he explained.

"Oh," said Ragnar.

Athelstan nodded.

"Jesus was born by Mary, a Virgin birth… A miracle."

"But Jesus was God's son? How can she be untouched if she had la-"

"By the Holy Spirit," Athelstan said loudly, brow frowning. He looked at the fire again. "She was given a child ... impregnated... by the Holy Spirit... but no one had touched her. Not even her faithful husband, Joseph."

Ragnar mumbled slightly, but accepted the story. He gripped at the monk's gown again, and brought Athelstan back to his attention. He raised his eyebrow to urge him on.

"Jesus grew up upon earth. And then he started to share God's message, God's purpose amongst his people... However, there were some who did not accept his words."

Athelstan raised the cup to his lips and held eye contact with the Viking. He hesitated briefly, but Ragnar pushed the bottom of the cup further up and Athelstan drank obediently. A few drops slipped away and ran glistening down Athelstan's chin. He sat the cup down and Ragnar nodded him on again.

"They... captured Christ." he murmured.

"The people managed to capture your God?" Ragnar asked disbelieving. "Why did his father not strike them down?"

Athelstan smiled gently.

"God had told him of his fate. He knew he was to be captured."

The monk stared into the fire.

"Jesus Christ had twelve disciples with him ... And one of them betrayed him. Told those seeking to harm Christ of his being and was paid in silver for his words and actions. Of course, Christ knew he was to be betrayed. God had told him that... that he would die."

Ragnar's piercing blue eyes bore into Athelstan's, his curiosity shining through.

"And then..?" he egged on.

"Then," said Athelstan. His eyes fluttered to the ground. "Then they took him, and beat him, shamed him, for they did not believe... they did not believe he was the son of God."

The Viking nodded slightly.

"They crucified him."

Ragnar, slightly perplexed, cocked his head, clearly not knowing what it meant.

The monk leaned closer and his breath fell softly against the northman's face.

"Remember when you took me from my, ah, temple? ... Rollo chopped an idol of him into pieces."

His eyes hardened at the memory.

"When you crucify someone, you nail... you nail their hands and feet to a cross. And leave them to die."

"You Christians are so brutal," Ragnar murmured with a slight chuckle. "So, your God was killed. What then?"

Athelstan shook his head clumsily and gripped Ragnar's shirt. He clung tightly to it, bringing their faces closer.

"He ... he sacrificed himself for our sins. He saved us all, by dying upon that cross."

Ragnar gave him a small smile and held the other man's head between his hands.

"Athelstan," he said.

"Mhm," replied the priest. He blinked drowsily.

Ragnar shook Athelstan's head from his to side.

"You're not making any sense."

Athelstan made a small groan and closed his eyes in exasperation.

Ragnar cackled and drew the priest closer, placing a small kiss on his forehead and coddling his dark haired head underneath his chin. Athelstan was too tired and too drunk to make any objections and just curled closer to the large man, digging his nose into the man's tunic. Ragnar pet his hair softly.

"You must continue another day, hm?"

Athelstan mumbled in agreement.

They sat there by the fire, the smaller Saxon curled up in the safe warm arms of the Viking, and they stayed there through the night, both snoring gently.


End file.
